


His Devious Demon

by SnakesandTea



Series: Ineffable Indulgences [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Coming In Pants, Consensual, Consensual Kink, Couch Cuddles, Couch Wetting, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dry Humping, M/M, Omorashi, Pee, Piss, Rutting, Wetting, wee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnakesandTea/pseuds/SnakesandTea
Summary: Crowley is cozied up with his angel on the couch when nature calls – and he ignores it. That is, until he can’t.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Indulgences [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517147
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	His Devious Demon

Aziraphale sat on the sofa in his bookstore, nose deep in an Oscar Wilde novel, with a lovable but pesky demon’s head in his lap. He played with Crowley’s short hair as he lost himself in the words of the story. It was just absolutely perfect— or it would be, if Crowley would stop squirming. “Darling, do you need to get up?” He inquired, eyes never leaving the page.

“Mm, no, I’m okay.” Crowley was comfy, laying on his belly with his cheek on Aziraphale’s thigh. His angel’s fingers stroked his scalp while a luscious pressure grew in his abdomen. He figured he had another ten, or so, minutes before the dam burst. As though to spite him, a dribble of piss seeped into his boxers. He stared at the books, eye-level on the coffee table across from him, searching for a distraction. “Jane Eyre? Was she any good?”

“Mmhmm,” Aziraphale replied pointedly, not bothering to correct him. He frowned slightly as Crowley shifted again. Every time the demon moved, it jostled the couch, and, by extension, his book. Aziraphale preferred to not get motion sick while reading. However, he delighted in having Crowley’s head in his lap and resigned himself to the occasional jolt. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Aziraphale pressed when Crowley wiggled his hips again. He had his suspicions his wily serpent was up to something devious.

“I’m sure,” the demon replied. He fell back into pleasant silence, enjoying the fingers in his hair. Crowley closed his eyes, humming contentedly. However, laying on his stomach was borderline unbearable. Another spurt leaked out, this one longer than the first. His breath hitched as heat blossomed across his crotch and the tops of his thighs.

“Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale asked, setting his book aside.

“Mhm?” He replied innocently, violently clenching his muscles. Despite his efforts, a small trickle escaped. Urine slowly leaked through his underwear and jeans before soaking into the surprisingly absorbent cushion. He resisted the temptation to simply let go right then and there.

“You’re not relieving yourself on my sofa, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dare.” The thought of closing his eyes and immediately exposing his lie as his head rolled back in rapturous pleasure nearly undid him. Distracted, another squirt warmed his groin.

Aziraphale gave him a look of disbelief. “Then prove it.”

“How?” He fought to keep his voice even as his insides trembled. Searing, white-hot pain tore through him as he pushed his corporation to its limits.

“Show me the front of your trousers,” the angel ordered. He kept his perfectly manicured fingers wrapped up in his hair, occasionally tugging it.

A guilty smile crossed Crowley’s face as he roller over, the front of his jeans damp with evidence. His eyes glinted with mischief as the angel assessed him.

He clicked his tongue and gave the ginger hair a subtle pull. Nevertheless, Aziraphale resumed massaging Crowley’s scalp without a word, allowing the demon to indulge himself in any way he pleased.

The snide comment in Crowley’s throat was swallowed by an obscene groan. Gripped by renewed, sharp pain in his abdomen, he lay back down. The extra pressure on his aching bladder hurt tremendously; and he whimpered, trying to hang on just a little longer. Another fierce cramp surged through his body just before his muscles gave out. He grunted, wetting furiously into the cushion as his angel continued stroking his hair. His stream hissed loudly from his cock, warming his thighs and stomach as it puddled around him. He looked up at Aziraphale, confidently meeting the deep blue eyes while he noisily pissed the couch. His torrent dwindled to a trickle and Crowley wiggled his hips, straining to push out the last few drops.

As soon as he was empty, another primal desire took over. He rut against the mess, his achingly hard cock seeking relief. Crowley closed his eyes as he recalled the events from mere moments ago. His angel kept massaging his scalp, acting as though the demon hadn’t thoroughly saturated his prized sofa. The illicit thrill of succumbing to his deepest desires in front of his principality sent pleasant shivers down his spine. He groaned, overwhelmed by the sheer satisfaction of ruining the couch as his angel watched. The sodden cushion squelched indecently with every magnificent thrust. He bucked wildly, desperately trying to climax before the urine cooled. Oh, he was close. Crowley humped faster; his breath reduced to choppy gasps as the delicious friction built. He felt his testes tighten with his inevitable release. Fuck! Crowley moaned loudly as he came, sticky hot spurts adding to the wet mess in his pants. He kept grinding against the soggy fabric, new bursts of pleasure exploding like fireworks through his nerves. Crowley shuddered with a final aftershock of his climax, clawing at the sofa.

“Are you finished?” Aziraphale asked, seemingly unruffled by the erotic events which just unfolded beside him. He twisted a lock of hair between his fingers.

The demon looked up sheepishly. “Yessssss.”

“And did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did.”

“Well, then, my dear, I suppose it was worth it to sully my couch,” he replied, his lips pursed in a slight frown. 

Ah, there was the fussy angel he knew and loved. Crowley smirked. “You know I’ll just miracle it away, Angel. Be like nothing happened.” He wiggled his hips again for emphasis. His breath hitched; the motion was nearly too much for his over-stimulated nether regions.

Aziraphale tsked. “Yes, but I’ll always know what transpired.”

He glanced up with a knowing smile. “Is it really something you’d want to forget?”

He stared at his naughty demon, beholding the light blush in his angular face. Aziraphale utterly adored the satiated, lusty glaze in the golden serpentine eyes. There was something about the way Crowley seemed to relax when he indulged himself that drove Aziraphale absolutely wild; he longed to engage an inherently improper act and truly allow himself to bask in the enjoyment of it. Aziraphale loved the gentle glow of his post-rut demon and, oh, the way his forked tongue sensually licked his lips as he awaited a response! He smiled. “Of course not.” Quite the contrary, really.

Crowley saw the spark of amorous adoration in his angel’s eyes and beamed. Someday, he’d ask Aziraphale to divulge those wicked thoughts. But, for now, he decided to let sleeping dogs lie and snapped his fingers, taking care of the mess.

“Thank you, my dear.”

The demon nuzzled against his lap as the angel resumed toying with his hair. He closed his eyes and listened to Aziraphale’s soft breath and the gentle rustle of paper as his angel turned the pages. Crowley sighed contentedly, slowly drifting to sleep on his favorite pillow.


End file.
